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THE TROUBLE WITH PROPAGANDA by IVAN KERNYTSKY Miss Katrusia studies political science at Columbia University. In addition to pursuing her studies, she tries to spread Ukrainian propaganda wherever she can, devoting a great deal of effort, enthusiasm, good will, and sometimes even her own money to this pious duty. She is particularly active in promoting Ukrainian music and choral art among her non-Ukrainian friends. For an upcoming concert by one of our better choirs, Miss Katrusia invited a truly international group of friends: two Indians from India in national costume, one Brazilian, and one Turk from Ankara. The exotic guests, who sat in one of the closest loge boxes, attracted the attention of the audience, and Miss Katrusia was roundly praised for her cultural mission. Of course, before the concert she gave her guests an exhaustive lecture on Ukrainian choral art in general and about the performers in the concert in particular. Then she gave each of her friends a detailed program, in English, and told them: "Anything I might have missed or forgotten you can learn from this program." The concert was divided into two parts, the first consisting of serious historical songs and the second of popular songs. One of the first songs on the program was "Zakuvala ta syva zozulia," which elicited, as always, great enthusiasm and endless applause from the audience. But the Turk did not display any special enthusiasm. He stuck his nose into the program notes and seethed. In the notes he could read an exact English translation of the text of the song, including the words "So, when word reached the Turkish sultans, no wonder, they ordered the chains to be forged even stronger." The Brazilian, sitting next to the temperamental Turk, poked him in the ribs with his elbow and looked at him mockingly. The Turk turned away, embarrassed, and Miss Katrusia paled a little. It happened that the next song on the program was "Revut-stohnut hory khvyli po syniomu mori," from Shevchenlo's Hamalia. Once again the program contained a translation of the text, describing how the Ukrainian Cossacks suffered, cried out, and longed for their homeland in Turkish prisons. Appended to the text of the song was an explanation. 'The choir begs God to liberate the prisoners from Turkish captivity." In Miss Katrusia's loge box an unpleasant chill descended. The discrete Indians were diplomatically silent, but the carefree Brazilian was openly jeering at the Turk, saying: "Oh, I see you are imperialists and colonialists, too!" The Turk was turning darker shades of red while Miss Katrusia was turning whiter and whiter. Finally, when the choir got to the third "anti- Turkish" song -- the chant about the Blessed Virgin of Pochaiv, how she "turned the bullets away, killed the Turks, and saved the monastery" -- the guest from Ankara could stand things no longer, excused himself, and said to Miss Katrusia: "Thank you for inviting me to this concert, and for the friendship between nations, and for the united, anti-bolshevik front. Goodbye!" Without waiting for the popular songs on the program, he left the concert hall. Miss Katrusia broke into tears. Reprinted with permission from Weekdays and Sunday by Ivan Kernytsky, illustrated by Edward Kozak, and translated by Maxim Tamawsky. Ivan Kernytsky, who died in New York in 1984, was the author of several books in Ukrainian and was acclaimed as the most popular Ukrainian writer in the United States. Weekdays and Sunday is Ukrainian heritage with a chuckle. Available from MOSTY, 6509 Lawnton Avenue, Philadelphia, PA 19126-3745. $17.00 plus $3.00 shipping and handling.
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